Immortal
by Deana
Summary: A few months after Savoy, Aramis encounters a situation just as deadly. (My entry for the April/May 'Fete des Mousquetaires' contest!)
1. Chapter 1

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Immortal  
A Musketeers story by Deana  
My entry in the Fete des Mousquetaires contest for April-May!

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_Musketeers are men of honor. But there was no honor, not in this_, Porthos thought, as he watched the distressed expression on Aramis' face while they quietly rode through the countryside. It was obvious who he had his mind on: Marsac, who had lost all honor that he could've ever claimed to have after leaving Aramis to die in the woods of Savoy. "How about we stop here?" Porthos said.

"It's as good a place as any," Athos answered.

Aramis, riding between them, gave no answer.

"Aramis?"

With a surprised blink, Aramis looked up. "Yes?"

"We're stoppin'," Porthos told him, frowning at the sight of his friend's pale face.

Aramis looked around and found that they'd arrived at the bank of a river. He looked momentarily confused before he nodded and dismounted.

Athos and Porthos shared a glance, all too aware that Aramis had barely been aware of his surroundings all day. It was obvious that he was deep in thought on the massacre that had happened a few months prior. He'd finally recovered physically, but he still had bad days where he was plagued by depression.

Minutes later, their horses were unsaddled. Porthos took their waterskins to the river to refill them while Athos started a fire.

Aramis wasn't given any tasks, as the others hoped that he would observe the delightful scenery; something that he used to revel in before the deadly incident that had stolen his joy. Porthos had purposely chosen that spot to make camp, hoping that its beauty would ease Aramis' troubled mind.

With a sigh, Aramis just stood there for a minute, rubbing the right side of his head against the ache that still cropped-up too often after his concussion.

The trickle of the river was enticing, with the sun's reflection shining brightly. There was a large pile of boulders close to the river, and Aramis headed over and climbed them, looking out over the water and taking a deep breath of the warm air, hoping that it would dispel the ache. It didn't help the pain, but the beautiful sight lifted his spirits slightly. He took a step closer to the edge, but he stepped on leaves that were concealing a crevice between two of the rocks and his leg plunged into it, dropping his entire body.

Immediately, several hisses filled the air, and Aramis watched as snakes slithered out of the rocks. Fear filled him when he saw that they were venomous asps, and he tried to scramble out. All he succeeded in was sliding further into the crevice, his entire right leg caught between the rocks. "PORTHOS!" he shouted, batting snakes away from himself. "ATHOS!"

The snakes seemed to come from all around him, slithering over his shoulders and arms, and one even slid around his neck, smacking the tip of its tail against his lips. A sudden sharp pain filled Aramis' left arm and he gasped, just as hands grabbed him under the arms and yanked, pulling him away from the rocks but twisting his knee where it was still caught in the crevice. He gave a cry of pain and Porthos shifted to tug Aramis in a different direction, succeeding that time and freeing his leg.

Porthos pulled Aramis away so quickly that he stumbled and they both fell off the pile of boulders. Aramis gave another pained cry when they hit the hard ground, and Porthos quickly scrambled up and yanked him away from the rocks.

Pain filled Aramis' knee and he had no idea how seriously he was injured, but all he was focused on was the sharp stab coming from his left forearm, where two holes in his sleeve showed where snake fangs had penetrated.

Once they were far enough away from the deadly creatures, Porthos and Athos quickly sat Aramis down and frantically worked to divest their friend of his weapons, sash, and jacket, to inspect him for bites.

"Were you bitten?! Were you bitten?!" Porthos asked, repeating it over and over.

Aramis' lungs were working overtime to deal with the panic of being attacked by deadly asps. "Yes!" he answered.

"Where?!" Athos exclaimed, being unintentionally rough as he pulled Aramis' jacket off him.

Aramis had no time to answer before Porthos grabbed his left arm, pushed up the bloody sleeve, and covered the bite wounds with his mouth, sucking out venom and blood before spitting it into the grass.

Aramis gave a gasp of pain and shock.

Athos searched him for more wounds, finding no more holes or blood, after which he simply held onto Aramis and watched Porthos' actions with open distress on his face...an expression that the others rarely saw in the usually stoic musketeer.

Porthos kept it up until he felt nothing more in his mouth, and then he did it again three more times just to be sure. He pulled Aramis' arm away from his face to inspect the wounds, finding the two holes red and swollen from his drastic action.

Aramis was breathing as if he'd been running, and his face was as white as snow. They could both feel his entire body trembling, and their hearts nearly seized in their chests when Aramis' eyes closed and his head drooped forward.

"Aramis!" Porthos exclaimed, grabbing their friend's face. "Don't you dare die!"

Aramis' eyes remained closed as he continued to breathe too fast. He felt faint; his aching head was spinning in circles and he wasn't sure if it was connected to his Savoy concussion or from snake venom.

Porthos started to lie Aramis down, but Athos stopped him. "No! If there's venom in his blood, it'll go straight to his heart if he's flat."

Porthos stopped, before hauling Aramis to his feet. "Stand up, Aramis! Stand up!"

Aramis' injured leg buckled, and he gasped from the pain.

"Porthos!" Athos exclaimed. "Panicking won't help!"

Porthos pulled Aramis' uninjured arm around his shoulders to keep him upright. "What do we do?!" he exclaimed. "He's going to die!"

Athos looked at Aramis, whose head was still drooped forward, his face ashen from pain and shock. "We take care of him," Athos said. "Bring him near the fire."

Porthos obeyed, shaking with fear and grief. His eyes filled with tears but he didn't let them fall as he sat Aramis on the ground and knelt.

Aramis lifted his head and looked at him.

Porthos was surprised and smiled at him. "Hey, how you doin'?"

Aramis shook his head, still in a state of shock. "I don't know."

A pang of grief stabbed Porthos again. "You're gonna be fine," he lied.

Aramis looked at them both, as Athos knelt with Aramis' medical pack. "I was bitten by an _asp_," he said, his voice shaking.

"But your doublet is made of leather, and Porthos quickly gave you the correct treatment," Athos said, as he took Aramis' arm and poured water over the bites.

"So you think there's a chance that he might survive?" Porthos asked him.

Athos said nothing as he followed the water with a dousing of brandy.

Aramis winced from the fiery, stinging pain that made his arm feel like it was melting. "Don't c-cover them," he told Athos, fighting not to groan.

Athos nodded and rolled Aramis' sleeve up past the wounds before moving to check Aramis' leg. "Where is the pain?"

"My knee."

Athos pulled Aramis' pant leg out of his boot and pushed it up past his knee, revealing a swollen, reddened joint.

Aramis felt a wave of lightheadedness wash over him, and he weakly slumped against Porthos.

"Aramis!" Porthos exclaimed, in panic.

"It's dislocated," Aramis said, eyes closed. The one thing he knew was that relocating it would be absolute _agony_.

Porthos shook him. "Stay with us, Aramis!"

Aramis opened his eyes and looked at Athos. "Leave it; there may be no point otherwise."

Pain filled both of his friend's faces at what he was saying; if he was dying, he wouldn't _need_ his knee put back into place.

Athos looked at Aramis. "Do you feel any effects from the bite?"

Aramis hesitated as he assessed himself. The breathlessness and shaking could definitely be attributed to the fear, shock, and pain, as well as the lightheaded feeling in his brain. His headache was a lingering effect from Savoy. He had no double vision, convulsing, paralysis, or nausea, and a quick look showed that there was no rash forming around the bites. "No."

His answer gave them all hope, though all three of them knew that the effects could simply be delayed because of Porthos' quick action upon finding the bite.

"You are going to _live_," said Athos. With that, he shot a glance at Porthos.

Aramis felt Porthos tighten his grip around him before he heard a *pop*. Blinding agony filled his knee, and he gave a loud cry of pain that he didn't even have enough breath for.

Athos tightly held Aramis' leg down lest he move it and cause more damage.

"Breathe," Porthos urgently said, watching Aramis' face turn even whiter as he desperately gasped for air. "Breathe!"

The pain was relentless, stealing Aramis' breath away and making him feel as if it was impossible to inhale. A thick dizziness invaded his brain and he might've let himself pass out if he'd been sure that he would wake up again.

Suddenly, something very cold touched his throbbing knee, and the sensation was a relief. Aramis managed to gain control over his breathing, and he found himself tightly held against Porthos' chest.

Porthos loosened his hold when he felt Aramis shift, and he helped him straighten up.

Aramis closed his eyes, still breathing heavily. When he finally managed to take a deeper breath, he reopened his eyes and looked at his friends, who silently stared at him.

Saying nothing, Aramis shakily reached his uninjured arm towards his leg and lifted the cloth that Athos had soaked in the river. The kneecap was once more where it should be, and he put the cloth back over it, hoping that the cold would alleviate some of the swelling.

"Any effects from the venom?" Athos asked.

Aramis still felt the same. "No."

"How long does it usually take?" said Porthos. "Somethin' should've happened by now, right?"

"I would think so," said Athos.

Aramis knew that it took longer, and didn't want to give them false hope. "The timing can never be assumed. I would wait several hours to be sure."

"We're too far from anywhere to get you to a doctor fast!" Porthos nervously said.

"There's nothing that a doctor can do," Aramis told him. He winced when the throbbing in his knee flared, and he raised a hand to his aching head.

Porthos tightened the grip on him. "Aramis!"

Aramis sighed. "I'm not going to drop dead," he said, eyes closed against the pain. "If the venom has any effect, we'll know."

Everyone was quiet for a few minutes, before Porthos suddenly spoke. "I'm so sorry, Aramis!"

Aramis reopened his eyes. "For what?"

"It was my idea to stop here!" he said, tightening the grip on his friend. "I hoped for the scenery to lift your spirits and take your mind off things."

Aramis gave him a slight smile. "My mind is certainly on something _else_ now."

Porthos put a hand over his face. "One decision to stop riding, and it leads to this!"

"It isn't your fault," Aramis told him. "You couldn't have known."

"The same is true of _you_," said Athos. "Nothing that happened in Savoy was any fault of yours."

Aramis looked at him. His two friends had been trying to convince him for months that the outcome of that mission wouldn't have been any different no matter what he could've done. With the current situation as an analogy, Aramis could finally understand. "Well," he said. "At least something _good_ came of this, then."

The next half-hour was spent making Aramis more comfortable and passing out food, which no one was hungry for. They forced themselves to eat anyway, knowing that they'd need their strength for whatever was to come.

Aramis couldn't stop shaking, though he tried to hide it from the others. Brave musketeer or not, he was terrified at the thought of dying here and now from an asp bite, which was a painful and lingering death. He briefly entertained the thought of asking one of the others to shoot him if his suffering grew unbearable, but he knew that if one of them had to do that, then all _three_ of them would die there that day: all for one.

"Will you pray with me?" he asked the others.

"Of course!" Porthos exclaimed. "And I'll start it off: God, please don't let Aramis die…we almost lost him in Savoy but You let him live. Don't take 'im from us _now_…we can't live without 'im!"

Aramis was touched. As he bowed his head and closed his eyes, he hoped that God considered him worthy of a miracle.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

An hour passed, then another, and another. Aramis still wasn't feeling any effects from the bite.

"Are you sure?" Athos asked.

"Yes," Aramis told him.

"Is it too soon to assume that you're not gonna die?" Porthos asked.

Aramis sighed. "It's hard to say."

That wasn't what they wanted to hear, but they had no choice but to accept it.

"If I don't survive this," said Aramis. "I want you both to know that you are very dear to me."

Porthos' heart flipped in his chest. "Don't you dare say 'goodbye', Aramis!"

Aramis reached out a hand to clasp his arm. "I'm simply speaking what's in my heart. The two of you pulled me back from the brink after Savoy, when I'd all-but given up.* I wouldn't have survived without you, especially after the shock of Marsac's betrayal." He had to stop there for a moment to force his emotions back.

Athos and Porthos quietly listened.

"I'd thought that he was my friend and brother," Aramis continued, his voice sounding a little rough. "But I learned since then that I couldn't possibly have truer friends or better brothers than the two of _you_."

Porthos sniffed and reached out both of his arms, pulling Aramis against him sideways and leaning his forehead on Aramis' shoulder.

Aramis patted his friend's arm that stretched across his chest.

"You are _not_ going to die," Athos said, reaching out to grab his other shoulder.

Aramis smiled at him. "It does seem rather ridiculous to survive a massacre, only to die _here_."

Athos nodded. "Yes." He let go of Aramis' shoulder and picked up the arm with the snake bite.

The two holes were very visible, with the skin puckered and swollen around them. There was light discoloration around the holes, but it didn't look like something that would lead to a person's death.

Porthos had turned his head on Aramis' shoulder and was watching.

"How do you feel?" Athos asked.

"Still no different," Aramis said.

"Describe it," said Porthos, raising his head but keeping his arms around his friend.

"The bite hurts, naturally," said Aramis, with a sigh. "I have a headache, but I _always_ have a headache." Those had been the wrong words to justify the pain, as he often told his friends that his head was fine. "Well, not always," he said, to cover himself.

Porthos sighed, filing that information away for later. "You're shakin'."

"Of course I am," said Aramis. "A venomous asp bit me and I'm afraid."

Athos poured water over the bite wounds, though he really didn't need to again. He laid Aramis' arm back down and stood, stretching his back before suddenly heading over to the rocks.

"Be careful!" Aramis called out, not wanting him to get bit too.

Athos waved to show him that he heard, and he pulled out his sword as he reached the rocks. He jabbed it in various places between them, trying to get the snakes to come out.

"What are you doin'?!" Porthos exclaimed, shocked.

Snakes immediately came out of the rocks, hissing loudly.

Athos stepped back until he saw what they would do, before he walked towards them again.

"Athos!" Aramis exclaimed, before moving to stand.

Porthos grabbed him and kept him sitting.

"I've already been bitten!" Aramis said to Porthos, still trying to get up. "It won't matter if they bite me again!"

"Stay there!" Athos yelled. He suddenly made a jab with his sword, before quickly heading back towards them.

Aramis and Porthos stared at the snake as Athos shook it off the tip of his sword.

"That's not an asp!" said Aramis.

"No," Athos agreed. "_This_ snake has no venom. There were others like this _with_ the asps."

"So maybe one of _those_ bit you!" Porthos exclaimed to Aramis, before grabbing him in a bone-crushing hug.

Aramis was shocked, his face paling more than it already was.

"We cannot be _completely_ sure at this moment," said Athos. "But considering the lack of symptoms, it's a definite possibility."

Aramis closed his eyes. "Thank you Lord!" he whispered.

Porthos laughed with glee, squeezing his friend tightly.

Athos sighed, part of him not wanting his friends to assume that Aramis was out of the woods if there was still time for symptoms to present themselves.

Porthos pulled away from Aramis, holding him at arm's length and smiling from ear-to-ear. "How do you feel?"

Aramis was still shaking. "I don't know."

Porthos nodded. "Just take it easy, you're gonna be fine!"

Aramis gave him a pale smile, his nerves frayed.

Porthos wrapped an arm around his friend and squeezed him tightly.

For the next two hours they waited and waited, and Aramis was still fine, aside from his constant headache and the pain in his leg.

"It's been hours, Athos," Porthos eventually said. "And nothing has happened. We should head back to Paris…Aramis should sleep in his bed tonight, not on the ground."

Athos sighed. "What do you think, Aramis? The bite isn't from an asp?"

Aramis shook his head, but before he had a chance to answer, he winced.

Porthos was startled at the sight and literally jumped where he sat. "Hey! What happened?"

Aramis raised a shaky hand and fisted it in his hair. "Just…my headache." His eyes were closed and his voice sounded strained.

Porthos felt his heart skip a beat. "It's gotten worse since the bite?"

"Yes," Aramis admitted.

Porthos looked at Athos, eyes wide. "Do you think _that's_ a symptom?"

Athos wasn't sure. "Aramis, you've been telling us that your headaches were mostly gone. Do they ever still get this bad?"

Aramis hesitated, not wanting them to know that he'd lied about it many times. "Yes," he answered.

"Probably not the bite then," said Porthos. "We're going to have a serious talk about this when you're better." Porthos looked at Athos. "Let's go back to Paris…Aramis will ride with me."

Athos nodded before breaking up their campsite and packing the horses.

Porthos waited until Athos came back before he picked Aramis up and set him on his feet to see if he could stand.

Aramis sucked in a breath and winced, keeping his weight off his injured knee.

Athos brought Porthos' horse over to them, and before Aramis even had a chance to figure out how to mount, Porthos had picked him up again as if he weighed nothing, and aimed Aramis' left boot into the stirrup.

Aramis pulled himself upright to stand in the stirrup, grateful for his friends' helping hands to keep him steady as he carefully swung his injured leg around so he could sit in the saddle.

Porthos followed, sitting behind him. "Okay?"

Aramis' leg and head were both throbbing, and he had to inhale deeply before he could answer. "Fine."

Porthos snorted, before laughing uproariously.

Aramis was slightly surprised and looked at Athos, to see a rare but genuine smile on his own face.

Porthos wrapped an arm around Aramis to keep him anchored on the horse, and gave him a squeeze. "_Fine_?! I never thought I'd be glad to hear that lie!" He turned somber. "I thought I'd _never_ hear it again."

Aramis smiled as the horse started walking. "You'll be hearing it for many more years."

Porthos gave him another squeeze in reply.

The ride was slow, and painful for Aramis, as each step sent a throb through his knee.

"How are you?" Athos asked.

"Surviving," said Aramis. "No bite effects. Even though it terrified me to see you rile up the snakes, thank you; otherwise we'd all still think that I was dying."

Athos reached out to squeeze his arm. "When time continued to pass without effect, it occurred to me that perhaps something _else_ bit you."

Aramis nodded his aching head. "I didn't notice different snakes at the time."

"Of course you didn't," said Porthos. "Neither did I; I was too busy panickin'!" He made a face. "Sorry about your knee though…that was my fault when I tried to pull you away."

Aramis smiled. "I would choose a _survivable_ leg injury over a _fatal_ snake bite without hesitation."

Time passed as they rode, and the pain got worse and worse. It was difficult for Aramis to hide his suffering, as he kept shifting his leg in a wasted effort to straighten it out.

"I'm sorry," Porthos said again.

Aramis swallowed and cleared his throat to ensure that his voice was steady when he answered. "Don't be, I'll be fine." He lifted his left arm to take a look at the snake bite, which was still visible beneath his rolled-up sleeve. His vision swam a little through the pain in his head, and he made a sound of dismay before he could stop himself.

"What's wrong?" Porthos nervously asked, stopping the horse.

Athos thought it had something to do with the bite and grabbed Aramis' arm to see for himself, but it looked no different. He looked at Aramis and easily saw the tell-tale signs of his Savoy-induced headache. "You should not have kept this pain from us."

Aramis sighed, his body visibly deflating. "I grew so frustrated by the long recovery after Savoy," he explained. "I just wanted life—or a _part_ of it at least—to go back to normal."

Athos could understand that. "There's no shame in admitting to pain."

"Yeah," said Porthos, as he started his horse walking again. "It happens to all of us."

Aramis sighed. "I know, but it's been _months_."

Neither Athos nor Porthos had been in the same situation, and couldn't imagine how it felt.

"Time keeps passin' and it'll all be a distant memory someday," Porthos told him.

When they finally rode into the garrison, Aramis could've wept with joy; if things had turned out differently, he would've never seen the place again.

Porthos suddenly gave an obvious sniff.

Aramis reached up to pat his arm. "_This_ will one day be a distant memory too."

Porthos tightened his arm around his friend in reply.

Treville had been watching for their return from the balcony, and he headed down the stairs and walked over to them with a frown, though he was glad to see Aramis conscious and alert. "I was going to send everyone out looking for you three soon. What happened?"

"The last thing you'd ever expect," said Porthos, as he dismounted and reached up to help Aramis down.

When Porthos didn't continue his explanation, Treville frowned. "Well?"

Athos and Porthos exchanged a look. "You might wanna be sittin' down for this one," Porthos told him.

Treville frowned at that, but asked no further questions.

It wasn't easy to get Aramis up the stairs; he needed Porthos' support to walk, as he could barely put any weight on his left leg. He didn't want to be carried in front of everyone in the garrison—he was already embarrassed enough by how much care he'd needed after Savoy—so they slowly got him to his room and laid him on his bed.

Aramis sighed with relief, throwing his right arm over his eyes.

Treville grabbed a chair and sat down, watching as Porthos grabbed the bowl and pitcher from the dresser and brought it over. "I'm sitting; tell me what happened."

Porthos wet a cloth in the bowl and placed it over Aramis' forehead before opening his mouth to speak, but he pulled his bottom lip into his mouth instead as if he was about to cry.

Treville was alarmed and looked at Athos.

Athos had rolled up Aramis' pant leg and placed another wet cloth over his injured knee to help the swelling. "Aramis was attacked by snakes."

Treville sat up straight. "What kind?"

"Asps—"

Treville leaped to his feet. "Why didn't you have someone send for a doctor?!" he exclaimed, cutting Athos off before he could finish his sentence. He suddenly realized the significance of the rolled-up sleeve and grabbed Aramis' arm, seeing the bites.

"I'm fine—" Aramis started to say.

Treville sputtered. "Fine?!"

"It wasn't an asp!" said Porthos, before Treville could continue in his justified panic. "There were other snakes too…he'd feel somethin' by now if it was an asp, it's been hours."

Treville wasn't so sure. "When did it happen?" he asked, still clutching Aramis' arm.

"Nearly noon," said Athos.

The sun was close to setting. Treville looked at the bite holes, pulling Aramis' arm closer to his eyes.

Aramis winced but said nothing.

Treville poked at the holes before eventually lowering Aramis' arm back down and studying him.

Aramis stared back.

Treville wilted and plopped back into his chair. "If my heart doesn't just give out one day, I'll be shocked."

"I'm sorry," said Aramis.

Treville shook his head. "It's not your fault." He placed Aramis' arm back on the bed before gesturing towards his knee. "What's the rest of the story?"

"That was _my_ fault," Porthos somberly said. "Aramis got his leg stuck between two boulders and when the snakes started slithering all over him I tried to yank him away so fast that I dislocated his knee." He hung his head, reaching over to put a hand on Aramis' shoulder.

Treville grimaced at the thought of the pain, before shaking his head. "Aramis…that was probably the narrowest escape from death that I've ever heard."

Aramis nodded with a sigh as he reached up to pat Porthos' hand. "I know...I don't think my mind has come to terms with it yet."

No one was surprised…they knew that Aramis had barely come to terms with Savoy, nevermind something like _that_.

Treville studied the three men. Aramis was obviously very pale, but he could also see how badly the others were affected. "Did you know immediately that the bite wasn't from an asp?"

Porthos squeezed Aramis' shoulder and closed his eyes. He bit his bottom lip again and said nothing.

Treville looked at Athos, who visibly swallowed and took a deep breath before he answered. "No."

Treville suddenly realized why they'd returned so late.

"It was Athos who figured it out," Aramis told him. "Hours later. After no symptoms presented, he went and stirred up the snakes, finding that there were also some harmless ones in the rocks, not just asps."

"So all that time, you all thought…?" said Treville.

Aramis nodded.

Treville shook his head again, imagining the three friends sitting on the ground waiting for Aramis to die…a terrible, painful death. "I'm…speechless," he finally said.

Porthos nodded and cleared his throat. "So are we," he said, his voice sounding rough.

Aramis looked from one to the other of them. "I'm alive," he said. "I'm still alive. I survived Savoy and I survived _this_. God obviously isn't finished with me yet." His voice had a note of wonder in it as he came to the realization that God truly had His hand on him.

"_We're_ not finished with you either," said Porthos.

Aramis smiled.

"Still feeling all right?" asked Treville. "Well, you _know_ what I mean."

"Yes," Aramis said. "I was not bitten by an asp."

"Thank God," said Treville.

Athos suddenly left the room without a word, and came back less than a minute later, carrying a bottle of wine and four cups. He placed them on the nightstand and wordlessly poured them.

Porthos carefully helped Aramis sit up, before sitting on the bed with his arm around him.

Athos passed out the cups, before holding his up. "To Aramis," he said. "The immortal."

It was a rare thing for Athos to jest, and everyone chuckled.

"May he _always_ be," said Porthos.

"Here, here," Treville agreed.

Aramis smiled and clicked his cup against theirs, inwardly thanking God for His protection, and for good friends.

THE END

* 'Back from the Brink': story ID 12088441


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